Who am I, and what am I doing writing the Pres?

Well, I had written the President, care of his new pad. I was polite and specific and knew there was a lot on the President's desk to get handled. So I wasn't sure I would ever get an answer, but figured that my letter is with trillions of others for the Presidential Library somewhere (Chicago?) some day.

Last night I received my answer from the THE WHITE HOUSE, Washington, D. C. 20502. Inside was a card to Dear Friend (I only have two friends, and no one there is one of them - oops, not counting blogging buddies). The point of the postcard response is that my opinion counts but only online, WhiteHouse.gov, to learn more about President Obama's views on a range of topics. My voice is shaping our country's future (and all that work I put in those almost forty-some plus years?).

So, if you care about tomorrow, and are a gunny, a right winger, bitter clinger, Bible thumper, a Rite Wringer, or just a normal nice person with a point of view about tomorrow, do stop by and leave your tracks at the White House blog. They need lots of help, a lot of help.

Not this one: WhiteHouse.com nor this one: White House W. that one is just history. Now all you truely Bible and Gun clingers out there without a PC, get to the local public library and link up. But then you wouldn't be reading this blog, would you? See you on the road, wave and say hello!

The world didn't miss me, but that is okay...

I dropped off the world for a bit, didn't spend anytime on making it a better place, unless my absence was a positive thing. Five or six wargames yesterday, two today, I did watch The Patriot with Mel Gibson (it is almost Braveheart done in the late 18th Century). Read more about the Revolutionary War, and then Sunday I posted, went to church and then sank into dropping off the world again. This time I watched Waterloo with Rod Steiger and Christopher Plummer - when I say I am a certain pattern I do know what I am talking about. By time dinner was done and my wife was off to her church I was ready to break out -- so I did.

If this were a soap opera I would be off to find some foolish females, but they are stuck on television and the gossip columnist's page of the vanishing newspapers. I was out for the ride, and maybe some new warmer dryer gauntlets for the Trusty Triumph, tomorrow will have just above freezing waiting for me. The Eagle Leather was closed, they didn't know I was coming, so I continued my ride, hard and fast down I-5, then turning off to go to the bookstore - such a guy, such a library guy. I wanted a copy of Paul Revere's Ride, and the History of the Rifle (which is really American Rifle A Biography) I didn't find the second book but did run across Fusiliers : The Saga of a British Redcoat Regiment in the American Revolution, so I grabbed it and went to the non-fiction upstairs to see what was there -- and found the book I didn't have the proper title for. Now I always kid the inmate patrons about how if they don't know the title and author they will have to put up with whatever I find that could be close - and don't ask me to spell correctly for them either -- still I try, so did the sales people at Borders, I walked out a richer man for my gain, and helped stimulate the economy a bit more. Ever try to stick three books in their bag inside your leather bad boy jacket and not look like you should be riding an H-D Fat Boy, cause you are one? No, well, except for being a bit blocky in the belly I am sure no one noticed. Well, I have enough reading awaiting, and after the Beautiful Ladies get done talking on Korean television I get to watch the Iron Empress. Life is good.

I loved to read the Sunday comics, and the daily's

They are talking about the extinction of the daily newspaper across the country and I look at my own life with and without the newspaper. Being young and limber once, I knelt with my two big front teeth resting on my bare knee and went through all the Sunday, in color, comic strips - to the point of impressing them into the flesh, I hadn't moved anything except my eyes over the pages my hands had turned. Lil' Abner, Terry and the Pirates, Gordo, Blondie, and many others I may have forgotten. Red Rider? Little King?

I did find the other sections of the newspaper finally, my dad talked about them, I got interesting in the stock market, letters to the editor were always a favorite, and then the want ads - where what I wanted was always there although the money may not have been in my pocket. I did find my first motorcycle in the newspaper, I have looked for jobs in the newspaper and found them. Look where that has gotten me.

I still look at the comic strips, but only on the Internet, I still read letters to the editor - although they seem to be the comments to the blogger's current post, since I stopped getting newspapers delivered to my home years ago. To me, newspapers became too heavy and costly and slower than I wanted my information. Just like television is becoming. They are concerned about selling ad space - this is where they think their money is - and they could be correct, but if I don't buy the paper and read it who will buy ad space in a medium that doesn't reach me? Not that I am important to anyone except me. So the papers are folding, the magazines are wobbling, the big networks News tries to be local, the local network news tries to be "breaking and world reaching" and their advertisers bore me away with drumbeats of commercial enterprise. I do doubt that I read any ads on any blogger's page - but I do object to the load time since I am only DSL not super high speed instant transmission - how much delay at light speed is the Moon from Tacoma? Don't add video, and giga-bytes of bits and I will get there soon enough. Does my mind work faster than light speed, or have the powers that be loaded the message to the point of my not picking it up to read?

I was wandering the Revolutionary War, for stories to tell, and found a book my mother had given me in 1975, The Boys of '76 by Charles Carleton Coffin, my copy by Grosset & Dunlap, with illustrations and drawings by Wallis Sturtevant, copyright 1876, 1904, 1918, 1924. Except for the idea of Liberty, Freedom and heroic effort there are no commercial messages. Save for the message from my mother "To Earl, Christmas 1975, Mom" I was in California about to go to Oklahoma to serve as a Drill Sergeant. Don't see that much information and entertainment being given in Kindle, the first kind or the second, but then I am a stick in the mud and don't jump on all the new technology - I have seen it break down when really needed.

Well, the weather men weren't correct, my home is much lower than 1,000 feet and that is snow on the roofs, and those are clear blue skies, no rain today... we know so very little about anything that we should always be in complete awe of what we see.

Just when I think I am up to speed, I slow down...

Yesterday was the big celebration, you know the one working folks do for it being FRIDAY! After four days of grinding out the labor and putting in the time they are ready to go home in about nine hours and party! So Happy Friday, and TGIF, and all are cried and laughed about. Surviving another week and two days of one's own time, no supervisors, no work, no way!

I was on my second motorcycle riding day of the week, the weathermen tried to make me believe it was going to rain - but I was betting the other way, and I had such a smile on my face from Thursday that I had to ride, rain or shine, on Friday - after all what is life about if it isn't about when one rides the Trusty Triumph? Well, my life anyway. For sure it was ten degrees warmer on Friday and I didn't lose my fingers to the wind chill like I had Thursday. On the way home I would cut through Spanaway Lake Park and at twenty miles per hour lean into the gentle curves and roll out, one doesn't really have to go too fast to enjoy being an old man on a bike.

I have lost one inmate worker, he is off to another level of custody, didn't obey the rules well enough so next week's chain will take him to the joint at the end of this world - Clallam Bay Corrections Center. The other three are in great form, although one is preparing for transition back into the world outside the fence and guards, I have requested six new candidates to test and interview for the position, I have about four new kites asking for the position only the Sikh seems a best possibility. His name may not even get on the callout. I will work with what is offered. Look, it is the end of another month, and I haven't finished most of the things I wanted to, but then I do have today and tomorrow and too long work days (Monday and Tuesday 11:3o to 20:00).

In my personal life, that I seem to share with a family and my two friends, I seem to have rippled the fabric of harmony and togetherness. I am like that. I am singing badly again with the choir, but the director understands she won't have all my attention and attendance, I have things to do and promises to keep. Even my wife has convinced me to consider seeing my doctor again, but he might not like me when I tell him what I think, but he might.

Well, the rains have returned, just for me so I can get out of doing the lawn and the daffodils droop a bit, still their bright yellow is uplifting, the Winter may really be over... it is just the cooler type of Spring - unless skiing is your passion, the slopes are open and working. Must be time for a nap - I come home on Friday and after dinner have the worst time trying to keep my eyes open - I missed the Diva match on Smackdown - and my wife didn't even wake me but we were heading for bed early (9:30 PM!), it had been a trying week and nine straight hours of sleep seems a fine reward for the weary.

Take care out there.

Economy... if it were to be better,,,

If every dollar I earned was a whole dollar - not net, if I only paid for the product, not and the tax and the interest on the credit card I get slow about paying -- my economic situation would be so much better. Or, so I thought as I rode my motorcycle to work. Just take away taxing everything and it would mean I get to spend and invest more of my work in caring for me and those I love.

The first comment is without taxes the government can't exist and take care of the stuff it does -- which isn't exactly true but almost. I see a government that could make, print, create more dollars depending on the economy - when it expands and contracts. Just a thought.

And about the banks charging interest on consumer spending, smarter consumers and they will die on the vine - the cards are convenient, but the interest rate is terrible and for consumption just not the way to pay on time - you are paying for that Big Mack and fries long after they gone from your system...

Aren't you glad I am not helping the Treasury Department fix the current Crisis - I have already declared it a raid on the pockets of working Americans, by those that want theirs NOW.

When they take you where you don't want to go...

I have been watching the Hospital for the last couple of days, thinking that I am as reluctant to go there as I am to go to prison - as a patient or a prisoner anyway. I didn't think to go find their library while I was there, visiting the hospital is about as mind numbing as many things that are on the outside of one's comfort zone. Mostly mind numbing because you don't have a function and someone you care about isn't doing well, but then this is where healing begins - isn't it?

Having had some interesting motorcycle mishaps while I was young, and being too close to excessive explosives exploding I have had my personal time in a hospital bed, but couldn't remember too much except that I was treated well and discharged and told not to do it again. I got an award of the Purple Hurt Award for the explosives trash buried in my leg, which hadn't slowed me down after my hearing returned, but they didn't like all that blood in the pant legs, not in OCS, just wasn't STRACT (and I can't remember what those letters are for, will have to Google it). Only the Urban dictionary knows...

Anyway the Hospital, like prison, takes those needing healing from across the population, and they respond best to proud professionals - which maybe why patients do better at the healing than the prisoners? Something to think about. The stress levels are awesome in the hospital, and I watched today some painful abuse by a patient to two doctors trying to help him - but they weren't doing it the way he wanted - duh, where did he go to med school? One of the recommendations for a future Marine was to make friends with the Corpsman, he is only Navy but he can save you when another Marine can't. I always liked getting the cooks and the mechanics on my side, too. Trained professionals do count in the worst situations - which gets me back to the fine professionals treating hundreds of people every day in our hospitals they don't get enough recognition.

Yeah, best get in good with the Medical Staff, they will help you beyond what you deserve but that old guy in the corner might not want to put up with your belly aching when added to his other problems - you could be the one thing he could fix, and he lived too long on a short fuze.

Don't nudge me ugly tonight...

Just got back from the hospital and read my mother's letter about how bad the world that is leaving her behind and alone is... and she is right the world is a terrible place - Mankind hasn't been evolved enough to become angels and is adapting his environment just enough to cleanse the rest of the lifeforms off the planet -- life just doesn't go the way it was supposed to, does it?

I am stuck in Hosea and keep coming back to the current world and a deep sigh is my only appropriate response - I can't change anything, Time magazine hasn't the guts to say the schools should teach moral behavior. Heavens, Time magazine hasn't had a moral position for a long time, just one that will sell magazines and ad space.
The current crisis isn't due to Disney, ABC nor Time magazine, how did we get to the point that anything that happened to a few was the problem of the remainder to fix and cure.

We haven't fixed the Drug Crisis, the Solitary Parent crisis, the Unwanted children crisis, the last crisis and the next crisis --- none of them have been solved, fixed - seems we lived through them, or didn't, if we lived we moved on to the next one.

I have changed and deleted about five paragraphs tonight and am spinning wheels and burning nothing... the Blues are banging out in the house tonight, nice that if I can't be positively creative I am not going to that terrible destructive person inside me... Good Night, and God bless.

Just a minute while I put the fire out...

seems I have been thinking about improving myself so the last years I spend on Earth are worthy, but then I was busy and couldn't get around to it... Americans are so busy they watch ninety minute movies in three hour blocks with the other ninety minutes taken up with commercials for things they aren't going to buy soon anyway oh, but I do watch the evening new on two different networks to make sure my plans fit the world's or the way the MSM reports the world's - neither of my grandfathers would recognize that world view but they didn't get HDTV, did they? Speaking of things I am not going to buy, snake oil medicine men surround the terrorists from the Middle East and Banking & Wall Street, I have to worry about breathing, liver problems, ED, women that may become pregnant, high blood pressure, joint pain when playing badminton (not one of my activities), and why the Lavitra woman doesn't think I am her man... I remain so confused

In our ease and need for speed of transmission we shorten words to IMF, IBM, NBC, CBS, Sex (instead of reproduction - if they taught reproduction in school instead of sex would it make a difference?), do we shorten everything for time, or because we can't spell those longer words? I remember listening to the English broadcast on shortwave from the former Communist China - all the visiting VIP (see what I mean, I can't spell Very Important People) were given the entire title 'The Vice Chairman of the Super Committee on Small Subjects in Large Palaces for Historical Continuity and Community' lovely long flowing titles instead of VCSCSSLPHCC as we know her now

well, I was supposed to warm up some soup for my dinner, my wife left me for social obligations and happiness and I sank into making up chamber flags, re-packing my range gear box for the Caravan, and reading a book and watching Godfather II and burning my soup on the range... luckily my wife returned and smelled the almost baked soup--- she says she doesn't dare leave me alone -- see what a smart woman I married? and she wants more insurance on me and the house... well, that last isn't really true but should be.

Earl goes to the Gun Show in Puyallup...

Looking for Hispanic Gangsters buying weapons for the Drug War in Mexico. Didn't see any.

Looking for rifles that I just had to have. Didn't see any. Did see many that were beautiful, but they wouldn't be lonely for long, and I am still dancing with my own thank you.

Went looking for peace and quiet, but the Gun Show isn't the local library - large crowds of people packed like PETA wouldn't do to your beef still on hoof. Yes, I thought that mooing and horns would have worked. Met one of the Corrections Officers from McNeil Island and talked crowds, military shooting (1903 through M1) and reloading.

Didn't find any ATF agents in undercover clothes working the crowd for Obama - the things I don't see when I am looking. Did see lots of Pro Gun and Anti-Obama bumper stickers, didn't see any from American Hunters & Shooters Association - they didn't even have a table. The number of Friends of the NRA having dinners and raffles were as numerous as the counties of Western Washington - except I don't think I saw King County nor Seattle - but sometime I think there are only dead voters there and all the workers commute in daily - but I have been wrong before.

Did watch a gunsmith mounting a scope (I still haven't got one and am interested), did see some nice leatherwork for all the stuff I NEED (okay I don't need) but it was so good. Did think that for my motorcycle I could get a scabbard and a carbine - then thought about how that would work the next time Gravity grabs me, my bike and my inattention... nope. Gravity Rules! Still another day and a half to go.

I received my renewed Concealed Pistol License...

and no matter what the anti gun crowd says - no child has been shot, not one suicide in this home, and I have never been involved in a gun fight in the street, at the Mall nor during someone else's road rage. Of course, I respect life and fine shooting and good weapons of many kinds, that and the fact that more good things are done with the firearms than what the criminals do with them.

Today is the first day of Spring, 80% chance of rain, highs in the fifties - yes, that is motorcycle riding weather for Earl. No, I don't put on my rain suit until I have soaked to the skin, then I put on the rain suit. Work was fine, ordered the last of the books, correctly and then thought someone was telling me I had done something wrong (but it was shotgun management style - blast away -- a little birdshot bursting everyone's bubbles) and I had to learn how to submit my travel for the conference and that is all new - this being an old man is so frightening when they add easier software to help me. Okay, I am not scared, but don't like looking like an idiot to the computers - I have seen the Terminator in action, and I felt like an idiot while I played with the entries and the computer kept telling me I was wrong I couldn't go back in time - and I am looking at the machine thinking I almost wish I could.

I got two good rides in today, the rain hit before I woke, while I worked in the library, and before I left to ride home- I even saw the SUN, briefly between gray towering clouds pushed by high winds and sea gulls. Still I get a nice feeling that after a few more wicked weeks of Western Washington's Winds and Waves (the ferry slams into the floating docks!) it will really be Spring and more fun than I deserve. My vacation time has been approved for the Boomershoot!

Only one last thing to write about, opening the door to the house, seeing my wife cooking in the kitchen and her smiling and telling me that I have to take CPR training - cause her heart isn't working very well today. She got leveled, went to her doctor and then on to work, and her blood pressure is high and the results of her other tests aren't back yet. But she wants me to worry about her coming heart attack - okay, dear, put it right there beside the other stuff on the procrastination pile. I did tell her to put the salt shaker back down and don't add any salt to the dinner, there is enough in the meat naturally. I do know CPR, just don't certify frequently.

You did notice I haven't written about the President and World Shaking events? Notice that this starts with something seemingly important (the 2nd Amendment and Concealed Pistol License) and gravitates right up to the only thing that is critically important in my life - hot coffee, nice steak and vegetables and my loving wife. Yeah, I know what I might lose sleep over.

Progress, isn't it just amazing? yes it is...

I can move in several hours to my mother or my son, and visit or find work and move in. Or they could move in my direction - well, my mother probably can't and since Washington joined Oregon in assisted suicide I wouldn't want my mother here anyway - she has told me for years if she lived in the same house as I did I would kill her. I did live in the same house as she did for years and I never killed her then, I did lots of running away and trying to keep her from messing up my life with other people (I could mess it up well on my own, thank you!)

So with things worrying at my wife, no real conversations between people hiding stuff from each other, wanting to make life better but not willing to give up control, or personal desires, nor the ability to make everyone feel guilty for not making your life better, and knowing that any President, no matter how many Rolling Stone covers he graced, can help. I give up! Maybe if I sleep on the problem the answer will wake me.

The morning after: my mother is buying a cart to carry her around, staying where she is and I have had a full night's sleep -- see what worrying gets me? Wrinkles and gray hair.

You didn't make my day, did you???

Gosh, don't mess with the grumpy old guy in the corner.

Well, I should look like this, went to work and found no supervisor, no computer internet access, no outgoing telephone service - so I was back in the days of card catalog, typewriter and stubby pencils. Amazing how bound to technology I am, sigh, all because (RUMOR ALERT!) because an inmate hacker got on a computer that his supervisor wasn't watching closely enough. He is now in the Hole and if I knew his name he would never get anymore library support, but I won't ask his name - just send him all the oldest programming books I can find.... not really, his being a dangerous fool is too close to my own affliction - we could be cousins, but I don't play with computers.

My personal problems are growing but my praying is getting louder and more often so I think it will work.

Time sure flys when we're having fun...

Yeah, even a quiet day - aside from going out to have a nice dinner - goes too fast, most of today has been talking about our dreams and nightmares, our better past and all the blessings we have had. The missed opportunities and the funny way we got more than we deserved and the laughter and warmth of three or four different cultures, hundreds of friendly good folks we met and the things we need to do as we shut down the operations as the body gets older and slower and the heart pounds on steadily. As long as it is together we will be okay - either of us alone is a danger to society, luckily we aren't as dangerous as we once were, and certainly better that we behave because love and laughter has been our brightest spot in the darkness of "THEY" and their conspiracies against our happiness.

I wrote that I wasn't aware that I was surrounded by so many beautiful women when I was younger, but I was totally aware, in the picture my sister Joy, my mother holding Paula (who was a knockout then and now) and behind the camera I figure my little sister Nanette (as an angry teenager). Best part of it that their hearts are what is the most beautiful, lasts long past the earliest wrinkles and the nightly removal of makeup.

Time for the week's end...

Okay, if I don't forget I will be married about thirty-seven years tomorrow, okay, exactly thirty-seven years. I only became aware of the date tomorrow as I picked up a card in the mail box from my sister and her husband, saved! I still remember sadly the day my son came up and got my attention after dinner and a long day and said "Dad, Mom says happy anniversary." how small could I get, don't know but I wasn't a very big guy in my mind that day.

I was riding my motorcycle through the freezing cold this morning and smiling and thinking and knowing that I have achieved real status in the world, I am steampunked! Wearing a leather coat, heavy harness ring boots, Duck Bib Overalls, gauntlets, Infantry Blue knit scarf (knitted by my girl friend), wrist compass, flashlight, Zippo, couple knives, riding the Trusty Triumph and faithfully following Victorian mores - I am steampunk. Then I found out that only I understood it and everyone else was just fine with me being Earl. Ah, well it was a thought and like most art one has to understand it to get it and be got. The girl friend is gone, I married her and have to remember where to get the flowers, card and time to spend with her. It isn't on this Internet...

ILS Quarterly Training Conference...

Close the library for two days, go to Federal Way, Palisades Retreat and meet with all the other Library Keepers and the Gang of Three (Go3). Budget boredom, no money maybe less, keep the library open even if we can't buy more books, keep the libraries open - once the doors close it is over, they don't re-open. Policies and procedures in the afternoon session, and a tearful farewell from one retiring Library Keeper, Virginia. She said good things about all of us that have been working with her - mostly so far away - she used to call me and tell me she supported some of my more foolish risky statements of discord with the establishment - when I am wrong is it easiest to see when I am leading others astray. She is good people and won't be replaced easily.

Final session was of a DVD from the surveillance cameras in the library at the West Complex of the Washington State Penitentiary at Walla Walla. Tough guy heaven, new buildings for the old Concrete Mama stuff... The temporary fill was Joyce, coming down from Airway Heights to keep the library open, she did and while distracted by a reference question about five of the twenty some patrons worked on an attack on another patron. The attacker walked across the entire library, put a book down on a shelf, and wound up and struck the victim from behind. The blow was for shock (worked) couldn't have done more than dislocate the jaw - but didn't. The attacker then wrapped the victim up in his t-shirt put him in a headlock and then beat on him for two minutes in the corner of the library. One of the attacker's partners, perhaps in more ways than one, sat in a chair facing the whole thing, not missing a blow. One other was close to a filled book cart and moving a little to maintain some blocking of the staff member's view of the library, where the fight was quietly going on. The fifteen or so patrons and two inmate workers kept quietly doing the library thing while glancing once in a while to the struggle. Suddenly two inmates come in from outside the library, all the patrons shift far from the fight in one corner and the first two officers show up and start giving orders to the fighters. The attacker lets victim go, victim starts beating up the attacker, more officers arrive, book shelves are being pushed over and around and books are hitting the floor, victim is hitting the attacker. More officers arrive, restraining and cuffing attacker then victim and walking them out and off to segregation cells. The remaining officers pat search all the inmate patrons and workers, clear them out, look for weapons and get statements from the staff about the fight. She saw only the last thirty seconds of the fight, missing the first two minutes (long enough that a deadly attack would have worked) and thinking the response team was quick during those last thirty seconds of fight. There are two cameras in that library, a panic button in the staff office she knew nothing about, and we watched the attack over and over and discussed what could be done to improve security in the library - better view, staying in the library not in office or workrooms, and of course more staff (which isn't going to happen during penny pinching seasons). Valuable training, very valuable.

I got out of my Earl is a loner mode, went for a motorcycle ride and filled my tank up, the Sun is out and it is cool and so is the Trusty Triumph and I. I ride back and stay for dinner at the Retreat (not normal conduct - Earl is a home boy and never stays - but Virginia doesn't notice). After I help move a table, set some stuff around and look at the preparations. You don't think we were going to allow Virginia to quietly slip into that fabled land of Retirement without embarrassing her. Invited old co-workers, gathered presents, letters from the Secretary of State and the Governor, a great scrapbook made by Joyce, pictures by Earl and Doug over the years, and others. About seven, Jeannie cons (prison reference!) Virginia into coming to the Library to play a board game and the Game is On! Surprise Party, three daughters and a grand-daughter have traveled miles in Virginia's van to attend and all of us and the tears start again, the jokes and tales of the troubles told. Jeannie is her old jolly self and cutting up, Doug has brought some decent drinking whiskey, and there is wine and Lemonaide for me. A cake doesn't last after appropriate picture taking and this social stuff isn't bad (says the guy hiding in the corner) but then it is in honor of Virginia, twenty-four years of institutional library service and she has done a fine job. The governor should have come, but then it wouldn't have been as much fun, would it?

I may never have mentioned it but...

I was broken by the end of the Vietnam tour, or molded into the fellow I fool the world with, doesn't matter about the carving me out of the boy and grinding me into a man, but I remain very interested in the military, history and arts of war and will. I follow most of the space combat, good fantasy adventures and techno-thrillers. I have followed Stephen Hunter since Master Sniper - love both Earl (my Name!) and Bob Lee Swagger (Robert E. Lee is one of my heroes) and in the 47th Samurai I find another Vietnam Vet that is sixty and still a dangerous old man - certainly more dangerous than I could ever claim to be - nice story, fairy tale ending, but nice story.

Jerry Pournelle answers a question about an Introduction he made to a David Drake book titled Hammer's Slammers. It is titled "Mercenaries and Military Virtue" and worth the read, but then I am not giving up my copy of that book. I hear rumblings that Andy Rooney doesn't see any heroes now in America, and I laugh knowing where they all are - and they aren't in the media circles that Andy hangs with, the celebrities and politicians of note (they aren't risking anything for others, are they?). Andy saw heroes, he knows they exist but knows the current culture tries to make them out fools and foolish -- the stuff of myth and legends - fairy tales. In the age of Reason one needs the Romantic, in the era of Romance only those ruled by Reason prevail... or something like that. The heroes are all out there, getting up every day to fight the dragons, to bring in the treasures, to risk it all for someone else, for others in need, for the fears before the deed. But when victory is in the number of dollars one has control of - there isn't a culture appreciating heroes - just the greedy grubbers that haven't been caught. Shame - less, and without Honor - not the stuff of my heroes.

Some things hurt more than others...

I dragged the garbage can to the curb, in my sweat pants and muscle shirt with the wooden shoes on, in the snow, my wife asks if that was what I wore and tells me I will catch cold. But I don't believe in colds from the cold just from the snotty, sneezing, coughing huggers with the red teary eyes. Don't know many of them so will be well, did think about riding the motorcycle but the weatherman is iffy today and it will be dark and could be freezing by the time I go home, I will cage me...

I was busy and someone called my name over and over at work, wanting my attentions, the snarling alpha male in me came up and I came out of my den saying things loudly about RUDE, IGNORANT, THOUGHTLESS people (which I had just become one of). The point of my anger cringed and whimpered and said things like "racist remarks and mumble, mumble..." and I felt the fool for being less than he expected and for having hurt him. I hadn't said anything racist that I recognized, but he felt that IGNORANT was racist - while I think ignorance can be cured it is stupidity that seems to be genetic, and I hadn't called him stupid. He snuck away, and I had won but knew that I had really lost - control and one patron that thought he was my buddy and we could talk... I will have to try and repair that relationship somewhere in the future. It will take a while. There is only one of me, two of my fellow library keepers are retiring this year and we still have two vacancies that haven't been filled - going for four and the State has frozen hiring for budget problems (not enough Lotto ticket buyers, not enough sales tax). I must try and fix all that for the ruling Democratic Party, or something.

I did turn off my television news when I found media and the unrighteous preparing to sacrifice their children on the altars of Science and Medicine, and the enlightened representatives of the American people preparing to write Ethical Guidelines for the ritual and rites. Our Congressmen and women know anything about ethics? It probably shouldn't bother me, Science and Medicine are such little gods and the sacrifices are such little defenseless lives - I could never see them without a microscope. But I thought sex was to bring forth babies to gurgle and smile and hold and love. Better go back to what I do best; killing and destroying and listening to the wail of the women...

My wife doesn't understand my laughing...

I have proof of Global Warming, the upper left old guy pushing the bagger cleaning up the yard was from February and he was so proud that he had done something to make Earth more Eden-like. Now it is March, he traveled over 280 miles this weekend through rain, sleet, hail and snow to help train three new Riflemen, and about twelve soon to be's, getting up early after a wonderful dreamfull sleep to check the blogging community and notice they never missed me - and my wife awakes to cancel her doctor's appointment to stay home until the snow melts. One would think as fast as Congress and the President are burning money in Washington there wouldn't be any snow anywhere - carbon foot prints of Giants, just ask them. Anyway, I must drop back into the real world, I didn't fire one round the entire weekend but I was talking targets, history of America, and helping teach and coach America's future Riflemen. Isn't the snow beautiful? God loves us.

Sunday Stills, well I am rocking...

I am working at an Appleseed shoot this weekend and traveling the distance and bearing the Winter weather's brunt. Since I don't really have photography as a talent nor skill I just give you my best portrait of who I think I am and what I am doing with my life - seeing Don Quixote and I have so much in common - too many books, too old and too honorable in the best way. I guess in some ways this is an excellent picture of me, it doesn't look at all like my father, it looks more like my grandfather but then not really - it is just the me that you can see. Go gently out there, from the Bible and Gun Clinging Community of Earl.

Just two thoughts to share while standing in line...

the line at the Courthouse for my renewal of my Concealed Carry License.

Thought number one - why are all these normal looking people here in this line - so many in front of me and as I move forward, so many behind me. An Obama effect? nah, couldn't be.

Thought number two, having been in the Driver's License line at DMV and now this line at the Courthouse - how is government providing/support/control of medical care going to make my world better? Well, yours anyway, I have been receiving government assistance on my medical care for a long time --- and as it was noted when I was a Drill Sergeant and they took me to the head of the treatment line -- when a Drill Sergeant goes on Sick Call he is really sick.

Yeah, AWOL... all my get up and go ... went!

I woke up tired Thursday, and all the blog crawling in the world wasn't getting my blood pressure, heart rate nor attitude up, I was almost a member of the walking dead but I was so tired I didn't even walk to the dock - I rode like a sack of potatoes the bus. I did open the doors, did turn on the computers but I was not really in attendance at work so I decided to take Friday off of the hamster wheel and rest. President Obama won't notice, my taxes are filed and my assault weapons are only in his mind.

I have my wife's garden to turn the soil, add compost to and rake out a bit. I have to renew my concealed carry at the Courthouse (where I must turn in my pistol for safe keeping while I am there - but the Police Sergeant says his men will protect us all - and I believed him until he asked for my knife). I have to do some monetary fund transfers at the bank, pay some bills, buy fuel for the Caravan. I have to get a red sweatshirt, document protectors for three ring binders for my Appleseed Instruction material and schedules. I need to stop at two gun shops for a check on a scope for the Model 70, and possible National match sights for the Garand. I should exercise lightly after my devotions and hit the road for some time with Nature and sweating. And if I do it all right and correctly I will go back to reading The 47th Samurai by Stephen Hunter. I caught back up on Battlestar Gallactica last night but then I really didn't since I have whole seasons of strange relationships between friends lovers and enemies I will never understand - still when they got down to Earth and found it radioactive and a wreck - I was finally able to see what happened to the cast of LOST and that beautiful island they had lived on so badly. Terminator VII will be so much better... if the Governator will just run out of term limits.

Having wandered to politics, remembering you can't force me to be better, braver nor beautiful, I give you what is wrong with America from Kevin's Corner The Smallest Minority , something to think about - but I like to remember it was my father and mother that are responsible for the fellow I am today - not Darwin, President Truman, Stalin nor Gary Cooper. See how quickly I prove I know what is important in my life... it isn't in the media.

Hope you all (y'all) have a chance for a real day off and time to sit over breakfast with ur signif othr and TALK. Lost arts in America: conversation, caressing the soul, romance, penmanship, spelling and grammar. Blog on!

You know you are ancient when they call you 'young man'

It is still Winter, groundhog time has two weeks yet and the Equinox is about forty-eight hours beyond that, and when factoring in the coal fired electrical plants and Iranian and North Korean nuclear developments (where ever they are going with that) it could be May before it is sane and safe to ride a motorcycle in the Great Northwest. The weather man has had rain and cool forecast for weeks and has been delivering, so when he said SNOW on Sunday I knew I had to quit listening to him. What happened to the blond bubbly babe that once did the weather, it never mattered what she said, just that she was watchable?

I had my motorcycle in fine form, and they were trying to frighten me into staying in the cage, eating gasoline and soaking in depressing vibes, but I wanted to fly. So looking at the satellite cloud maps I found my day to roll out the Trusty Triumph and did. Temperature is in the forties and going to fifties briefly and that is warm enough. So I rode to work and warmed back up by walking the two miles down to the dock, worked and bought a Ginger Cake from the inmate bakery, went back home on my bike, smiling. For those that ride I can't tell you what it does to one's day when it fits so well (you already know); for those sleeping at the wheel in the cage, listening to Rush Limbaugh or NPR, talking on their cellphone, texting their one and only (and clones), that don't know how and when to shift the gears, add fuel, or call it a day -- y'all will never know.

If your way to work and home isn't an adventure and you are missing everything that you would pay attention to if you were one with your bike going over the same route--well, if that describes you then you will love having the Obama Government Cage take you through life. You don't have to know when to shift gears - the machine will do that for you, it will tell you when it is time to change oil, when your tires are under-inflated, when you are going too fast and losing traction, and remember when all else fails and you are about to crash into that tree because you never did learn how to drive yourself very well - there is the mandatory seatbelt law, speed limits, drunk and drugged driving prohibitions and finally an airbag and crash tests that will keep you safe and alive until the rescue folks show up to cut you free.

Oh, and aside from the days it is too cold and too wet, I will smile on my motorcycle rides - and they are so much cheaper per mile than the Obama Cage rides y'all will be taking - but then I have almost two years and 14,000 miles on this motorcycle. God must love me.

The best of ideas...

As I jog I think, and my thought for today is 'go out and do good stuff, and only good stuff' and with that I leave you having started my thought for today the same way...

Get the young into the woods, not virtually...

You know what derivatives are? They are a bet by a banker, and they don't call them bets because they are bankers and they don't gamble, although they take some risks - and then want bailed out when their risks go bad. My point is that urban living and technology have deprived the young of the romps in the woods, I don't think many are manning a trap line for money, I helped a friend on his when I could (pre-1964) - us city slickers didn't know how many muskrats were around to trap. modern man (Me?) seems locked into Super Market bargain shopping, and my father (as a boy) brought squirrels home for the pot, my grandfather introduced me to picking bird shot out of pheasants. So I thought about that Master Hunter program of Washington State, and translated it into German immediately, JaegerMeister. Which someone remembers is a fine alcoholic beverage. That isn't it and I was looking at it for the wrong reasons (those German dinner jackets are so cool), I just wanted another excuse to go shoot the best I could. They do want you to qualify with your hunting weapon. Well, I was oriented yesterday in Olympia and I am really happy with the program. So I am sending in my application today, and after church I went to try my hand at the rifle qualification and passed the off hand at fifty yards, but not the hundred yard one, yet. See, I am only in it for the challenges and am willing to work on passing all of the requirements. Then the fun stuff comes along, assisting in hunter educations, repairing elk fences, chasing strays (city folks keep moving to the woods), and wildlife projects . I am big on hunting, just not on being a blaze orange target during season and I really like the idea of helping young men learning how to shoot safely and hunt with care the land and its bounty.

Civilian Marksmanship Program

Civilian Marksmanship Program :

 Normally, we average receiving 2,000 - 3,000 sales orders per month
 and ship an order in 2-3 weeks. However, these are not normal times.
 Since October, 2008 we have been receiving 5,000 - 10,000 orders per
 month, which is several times normal. As a result, we are very back-
logged and running several weeks behind on processing orders. Our
 staff is working up to 12 hours per day 7 days a week, and only to-
day finished the 4,000 orders we received on 1 December alone (except
 for those 1 Dec orders with credit card or other problems).